Reminiscence
by Womgi
Summary: A very different Harry Potter thinks back to his childhood. AU oneshot


Disclaimer: Don't own the money makers….They belong to THEM!

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Pain is bad. That's what other people say. But then, other people seem to have a habit of being wrong don't they? When the Dursleys said that I was a freak and a delinquent, the other people who came to visit simply nodded their heads and agreed that I was so. And since I had a very good handle on the fact that Petunia was wrong, the other people must have been wrong as well see? In case you haven't noticed yet, I really don't like other people much.

But let's forget about the other people. I was talking about pain. And why am I talking about pain you ask? Well, frankly, it's my mind and my words and I can damn well say what I want. Yes, that's right. It's my god given right to say whatever the hell I want inside my head. Makes them mind readers go all purple headed it does. So I said Pain is good. Because pain is a sign that you're alive.

There was a time, it must be said, that I was a wee lad yet unused to the ways of the world who cried when he got a tiny boo-boo on his body. And then dear Aunt Petunia beat the living daylights of my four year old body. I quite remember her saying something about freaks needing to grow up faster. My first lesson on surviving the world was, as one can imagine, quite painful and traumatizing. However, it was a lesson that really sunk in at the time, don't cry, it only makes people give you more reasons to. Although, maybe that wasn't the lesson she was trying for? Who cares really; it's my head, and I decide who and what I'm going to care about.

Let's get back to pain. As a child, I was not exactly the brightest of kids. It may have had something to do with all the blows to the head, but who's counting? In any case, I must confess that there was a stage when the words pain, hurt and punishment were merely sounds from a mouth and held no significant meaning to me. This may have something to do with the fact that the Dursleys weren't exactly masters of getting to the point, but again, who's counting? So it was quite a shock when uncle Vernon was quite drunk and managed to nearly incomprehensibly educate me on their relationships. I was quite proud of the fact that I was able to decipher the way his words slurred and sounded. But it was nonetheless shocking.

Fast forward a few years, and I was quite eager to feel the pain. Oh, I'm not a masochist. At least, I don't think I am. I simply craved the knowledge that of the many ways they chose to deal with me, this was the one which involved thinking of me, considering my actions, formulating a response and acting on those responses in a manner requiring our mutual proximity for some time. It was a lot less wordy and clear back then. But it was acknowledgement. Great Circe, it was acknowledgement. One cannot ignore purposefully inflicting pain. It was my greatest triumph. I didn't care about them as relatives or human beings. No I cared that they were sentient blobs of flesh that had to actively think about me to do anything to punish me. It was a glorious feeling. In the face of that glorious feeling, how could I say that I did not like the pain, which they desired to cause me?

That's how I started with pain. And when I was in pain, I learned to ignore the pain. Instead I focused on other things, like sunshine. It was there everywhere of course, a never ending torrent of warmth that was showered upon the earth, except when it was night. Not that anyone really appreciated it. Sunshine like pain was not exactly something that most people thought about purposely. Pain, everyone ignored because they didn't like it. Sunlight, everyone took for granted because it was there yesterday and it would be there tomorrow. But I would not ignore sunlight, because it was precious to me. After the dark hovel of the No 4 cupboard, sunlight was a drug. It was the surest evidence beyond my barely corrected vision that I was outside. Sunlight told me that I was alive. It told me that I was outside. It told me that one day I would break myself out of this useless neighborhood and leave this unwalled prison. If I had to describe it, where pain was my bosom friend, sunlight was my clandestine lover.

I think all of this is why I am always surprised, that the first real turning point of my life came in the absence of both these stalwart companions of my yet short life. On a dark and stormy night far from sunlight and a bit less far from pain, a towering man burst into my life and warmly, if gruffly told me the words that would change my life.

"You're a wizard Harry"

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A/N:

Something lying on my laptop that I polished up. I remember having a purpose for this when I first wrote it, but I can't recall what it was for the life of me. So I completed it in this manner instead of leaving more loose ends that could be used to continue it. Not that I couldn't, but with my management pg course starting, I have even less time than I used to…Except to randomly babble on twitter.


End file.
